Biarritz Passion: A French Summer Novel

by Laurette Long

  She came to an abrupt halt as she took in the fact that the four of them were up and dressed and drinking coffee, pacing like lions in a cage.

  At the same time as she opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, Edward exclaimed ‘François!’

  Madame Martin’s grandson was a police commissaire. Fifteen minutes after Madame Martin spoke to him on the phone, he arrived at the villa still in his uniform, bags under his eyes like a bloodhound.

  ‘I am a staunch republican,’ he told them, dropping into a chair and accepting a cup of coffee with a nod of thanks, ‘But. But. I have to say that I detest le quatorze juillet.’

  He took a long gulp of the steaming black liquid then looked at them.

  ‘So. Tell me exactly what happened.’

  ‘You know that we can’t put out a missing persons alert just yet,’ he said when Edward had finished. ‘But I will look into it unofficially, and in the meantime there are some things you can do. Now tell me the name of this person she saw the other night. You don’t know where the boat was moored? The name of the owner? ’

  While Claudie printed out a photo of Annabel that was on Jean-Paul’s camera, François gave them a list of numbers to call, the local hospitals, the British Embassy in Bordeaux, a couple of homeless shelters. ‘Who knows?’ he said, seeing Caroline’s eyes widen. Maybe it was worth visiting the train station. With the photograph of Annabel. And calling the airlines. And of course the hotels. Well over a hundred in or near the centre, according to the Internet tourist information. Not to mention the chambres d’hôtes. And that was just Biarritz.

  Edward walked back to the car with him, reiterating their thanks.

  ‘Ecoute mon vieux,’ said François, looking him in the eye. ‘We both know this is mainly to stop her sister from worrying. Frankly I don’t think you’ll get any results. If this Annabel had been in an accident, we would have known. If you want my opinion, she’s done a bunk. Probably with this Liam. Just have to wait till she decides to contact someone.’

  They shook hands and François drove off.

  And then of course there was the question of Julian. When Edward phoned the hospital, they told him he had developed a temperature, so they were going to keep him in a little longer.

  ‘Well, that’s one problem solved,’ said Edward, hitting the disconnect button.

  With Julian out of the way they had some extra time. Someone would have to go and see him in hospital though. As they sat on the terrace, drinking more coffee, they discussed possible versions of the ‘Annabel not feeling up to it’ story.

  ‘It makes more sense if you and Claudie go to see him while JP and I work the phones.’

  Edward looked at Caroline. She was sitting listlessly on the terrace steps, looking out into the garden. In spite of their exhaustion, none of them had slept for more than a couple of hours the previous night. They all, thought Edward, looked like hell. What a holiday.

  Madame Martin brought out a large platter containing an enormous Spanish omelette stuffed with peppers and onions. She stood, hands on hips, while they tried to force down a few mouthfuls.

  ‘It won’t do any good if you all faint from hunger,’ she said. ‘You need some strength. And don’t worry Mademoiselle Caroline, my François will find your sister.’

  Tears sprang into Caroline’s eyes and she nodded, unable to speak.

  After lunch she and Claudie set off to the hospital. Julian was half-asleep. As they pushed open the door he looked up with a sudden light of hope in his eyes, which gradually faded. Seeing his expression Caroline mustered all her self-control and went over to the bed to take his hand.

  ‘How are you? The doctor said you have a temperature.’

  ‘Yes, must have caught a chill or something. Probably cow flu.’

  He attempted a weak smile.

  ‘Annabel sends her love, and these.’

  Claudie handed him a box of chocolates.

  ‘Oh really?’ Julian looked momentarily surprised and Caroline and Claudie exchanged an anxious look. They hadn’t known what to get him. Maybe he didn’t even like chocolates.

  ‘That’s so sweet. Is she feeling better?’

  ‘Well that’s the thing, she’s starting with a temperature as well. Maybe it’s something you both picked up. All these changes in the weather, hot then cold, maybe that’s the reason. We asked the doctor, he said better not risk it.’

  ‘No of course not, very sensible. Poor thing. I was just wondering though, maybe she could give me a ring? I’ve tried to call her but her phone’s been switched off.’

  ‘Yes, her phone, you know Julian, I forgot to mention it before, in all that big mess, she lost it.’

  Claudie was gabbling nervously. Julian was looking between the two of them. He put his hand to his eyes for a moment.

  ‘She’s not alright, is she?’

  ‘She’s fine! Fine! Just what I told you, a summer cold, a sore throat, honestly Jules nothing to worry about!’ Caroline was gabbling as fast as Claudie.

  ‘No, that’s not what I meant.’ He took his hand away from his eyes.

  ‘She’s not forgiven me, has she?’

  The two of them were caught unawares.

  ‘Forgiven you! Whatever for?’ Caroline tried to think of more plausible excuses but her brain was on overload.

  ‘You know, the row, Frankfurt, everything.’

  He put his hand back to his eyes.

  ‘Oh Julian, don’t be silly! It’s all blown over! She—she was really proud of you, going down there into the ring, you heard what she said.’

  ‘Really?’ Julian searched Caroline’s face. ‘So, the Frankfurt thing–she meant it? She’s coming with me?’

  His face was bright with hope.

  ‘Of course!’

  The words flew from her lips.

  ‘Everything is fine Jules, really fine. Stop worrying about Annabel. Otherwise you’ll never get better. You’re looking very flushed as a matter of fact.’

  Caroline touched the back of her hand to his forehead.

  ‘God Julian, you’re burning up! I’m going to call the nurse.’

  Julian’s fever was spiking, his pulse rate accelerating.

  The nurse ordered them out of the room saying Julian needed to rest.

  ‘Bye darling!’

  ‘Au revoir chéri! Courage! Essaie de dormir!’

  They called words of encouragement from the corridor, backing away until they we’re finally out of sight. Claudie fell against the wall with a groan.

  ‘I would never have suspected you were such a good liar,’ she told Caroline, shaking her head in wonder. ‘Much better than me.’

  Jean-Paul and Edward were out when they got back. They had left a note saying they were going to check out the station and a couple of other places. The girls should try to get some rest, they’d ring if anything turned up.

  Claudie said she‘d like to lie down if Caroline didn’t mind. Caroline looked at the young woman who had become such a close friend over the last few days. Impulsively she hugged her.

  ‘Go, Claudie, try to sleep. I know you don’t like me apologising, but honestly I feel as though the MacDonald family has brought some sort of curse to your beautiful home.’

  ‘Caroline.’ Claudie stood back and looked her in the eye. ‘In a few days we’ll be wondering what all this fuss was about. Everything will be back to normal. You and I will be having our conversations about life and love and recipes. Maybe we’ll go and buy some new shoes. We deserve some new shoes. Jean-Paul and Edward will be trying to catch the big wave. And Annabel will be arguing with poor Julian. You’ll see.’

  In a few days, thought Caroline watching her friend go upstairs. In a few days she would be at the airport, waiting for her flight back to England. The holiday would be over.

  She walked slowly into the garden, down the slope into the little parc, as far as the blue cedar. In front of her the sea sparkled and danced in the sun. She sat down and pressed her back against the tree’s rou
gh bark, closed her eyes. If only she could snatch some sleep, just a half-hour. Maybe she’d be able to think more clearly. But the thoughts kept going round and round in circles in her buzzing brain.

  Where was Annabel? Still in Biarritz? Holed up in a hotel? On the boat with Liam? She couldn’t have left the country, they had found her passport in her room. So where? Caroline tried to picture her sister, to send her a telepathic message. Where are you Annabel? Pick up your phone. Call us. Don’t leave us like this, worried to death, not knowing what’s happened.

  What if she wasn’t with Liam? What if Liam had sailed? She thought of the stories she had read about missing persons. Sons, daughters, who simply walked out of the house in the morning, on their way to school, on their way to work. And vanished. Leaving their families behind, bereft, anguished, unable to comprehend what had happened. Some had been taken. Some had gone of their own accord, maybe to be discovered months even years later. Some were never found.

  A warm body pressed itself into her side. Figaro, as if sensing her distress, was butting his furry head against her, purring. She scratched between his ears, producing an even louder purr and more head butts.

  Jean-Paul was coming down the garden towards her. She scrambled to her feet, a look of hope on her face.

  Jean-Paul shook his head.

  ‘Nothing so far. We’ve checked the hospitals, the embassy, the station, the airport. The result’s the same everywhere, nothing.’

  Caroline felt cold.

  ‘What do we do now?’

  He shrugged.

  ‘We carry on. We’re going to try the marinas, see if we can find out something about this boat.’

  The day seemed endless. The brilliant cloudless weather, the beautiful scenery, the perfumed garden, all seemed to mock them. Those luminous happy days they had spent on the beach, the long candle-lit dinners, moths flickering, the night sounds, cicadas, bullfrogs in a distant pond. It felt like years ago now.

  But Claudie, waking after her nap, had seemed to find a new energy. ‘Come Caroline,’ she said, marching outside, car keys in hand. ‘We will look.’

  ‘Look where?’ said Caroline.

  Claudie shrugged impatiently.

  ‘Anywhere, everywhere. We can’t just sit in the house doing nothing while Edward and Jean-Paul are searching.’

  They had crawled through the dense traffic, the crowds of holiday makers, scanning faces. They had been back to the park where they last saw Annabel, looked under every bush and tree and bench for a bag, a phone. They had talked to people, shown Annabel’s picture. People shrugged, apologised, shook their heads.

  ‘What about phoning her friends in London?’ said Edward, when they got back, tired and downhearted.

  Caroline had brightened at the idea.

  ‘I only have a number for Gloria. But perhaps she can give me the numbers of some other people? Maybe even Liam.’

  ‘Better think up some story or other.’

  They were getting good at inventing things now, thought Caroline. They’d be able to write a novel if this ever ended.

  But London had proved as much of a dead end as everything else. They’d know it was a slim hope in any case.

  ‘I’m going to have to telephone Aunt Margaret.’

  They were on the terrace. Jean-Paul had opened a bottle of wine, they were nibbling at plates of cheese and olives. No one could face the chicken casserole that Madame Martin had left, with instructions to eat it all up before she got back tomorrow.

  Claudie looked at Caroline’s strained face.

  ‘Why not wait a little longer? You told me her health is not so good. This will only make her worry.’

  Caroline hesitated.

  ‘Do you think so?’

  Claudette shook her head despondently.

  ‘I don’t know Caro. Maybe it is best to tell her after all. We have told so many lies.’

  Edward had nodded agreement and handed his cell phone to her.

  Margaret’s voice when she picked up had been full of delight.

  ‘Darling how nice of you to ring again! You only called at the weekend! Is everything alright?’

  Caroline almost lost her nerve.

  ‘Aunt Margaret… there’s been an accident, not a serious one, don’t worry, it’s Julian, he’s in hospital with some broken ribs.’

  Aunt Margaret’s exclamation could be heard by the others.

  ‘No no, he’s going to be fine, don’t worry. I just wanted to let you know, the thing is, Annabel was there at the time and she must have got scared, you know how highly strung she can be. She just rushed off on her own. She...well, we haven’t seen her since, she’s obviously upset—’

  Margaret’s voice at the end cut in, sounding suddenly old and frightened.

  ‘But I don’t understand, why would she run away if Julian was hurt?’

  ‘It’s a bit complicated, it all happened very quickly, we were busy worrying about Julian and we suddenly realised that Annabel wasn’t with us.’

  ‘But when did it happen?’

  ‘We were out for the evening there were a lot of people milling round, she just sort of disappeared in the crowd. Like I said, she probably panicked, thought that Julian was really badly hurt, couldn’t face it.’ She hesitated. ‘That was yesterday.’

  ‘And you haven’t seen her since?’

  ‘We’ve been looking everywhere. I didn’t phone before because I didn’t want to alarm you. You know what Annabel’s like, she’s probably holed up in a hotel, she had her bag with her, some money. Don’t be surprised if she phones you and asks you to come to the rescue. You know Annabel.’

  ‘Oh darling, I don’t know what to say. Have you been to the police? Hospitals and such?’

  ‘Yes, all done, we’ve been looking everywhere but…’ Caroline’s voice started to wobble.

  ‘Caroline you poor child! How thoughtless of Annabel to do such a thing, just go off and leave you all worried sick. It’s like that time she ran away from school, do you remember? Listen dear.’ Margaret’s voice grew firm. ‘If you’ve been to the police, and you know she’s not lying in a hospital somewhere, you’ve done all you can. Now if she contacts me I shall ring you immediately. You mustn’t worry. Your sister is perfectly capable of looking after herself.’

  ‘Oh Auntie M you’re such a tower of strength. I’d completely forgotten about the school episode.’

  ‘Well I remember it clearly. Birdie and I were going out of our minds, imagining her lying strangled in a ditch. She was at Cynthia Forbes house. Hiding in Cynthia’s room, do you remember? How her mother never found out for two whole days I shall never fathom. Of course, they did live in a mansion. Now look, my dear, is Edward there? Can I speak to him?’

  Edward took the phone.

  ‘Hello Margaret, sorry to bother you with all this news...yes, yes...’

  He walked through the open French doors into the salon. They could hear snatches of conversation, reassuring murmurs from Edward.

  ‘So.’

  He stepped back out on to the terrace to join them.

  ‘Your Aunt is convinced that this is one of Annabel’s tantrums. That we’ve nothing to worry about, she’ll show up when she’s ready.’

  Caroline’s eyes were full of tears.

  ‘Come on sweetheart. Your Auntie is a woman of sense.’

  He had crouched down by her chair and put his arms round her.

  ‘Oh Edward, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘No! If I hear that word one more time I am going to pick up the culprit and throw them in the bloody pool! The deep end.’

  She gave a muffled sob into his shoulder.

  ‘Here.’

  Edward had grabbed a serviette from the table and was lifting Caroline’s face to wipe away the tears.

  ‘No handkerchief this time.’

  He looked at her steadily. The unspoken message that passed between them did not go unnoticed by the twins. Claudie opened her eyes as wide as saucers. JP gave a silent whistle.


  The ringing of the house phone made them all jump.

  ‘I’ll get it!’

  JP was racing inside.

  ‘Oui, oui, demain. OK, merci.’

  He came back outside. Three expectant faces were turned to him.

  ‘The hospital. They say Julian can come home tomorrow. Sorry. Oops. Forbidden word. But you know what that means?’

  They all nodded.

  ‘So,’ said Claudie, ‘the only question now is, who’s going to tell him?’

  ***

  That night there was a storm. They heard the thunder as they were clearing the table. Lightning flickered over the cedar.

  ‘They didn’t forecast this,’ said JP.

  ‘We haven’t exactly had time to watch the weather forecast,’ said Claudie, banging glasses on to the tray with uncharacteristic force.

  They moved indoors just before the rain hit. Sitting in the salon, they stared out at the torrents of rain bouncing down and rebounding from the terrace. The room was stuffy and uncomfortable with the windows closed.

  ‘Oh I just can’t stand this any longer!’ Claudie jumped up and banged her fist against the window pane. ‘Why doesn’t she phone?’

  Edward got up and went to give his cousin a hug.

  ‘Ecoute Cloclo, you heard what Margaret said. I know it’s hard, but we’ll just have to be patient. JP why don’t you find us a good film to watch? ‘Avatar’, we’ve got that somewhere.’

  ‘You can watch a film if you like. I’m going out.’

  Jean-Paul sprang to his feet. It was the first time Caroline had seen him lose his temper.

  ‘Can’t we ring François again? ‘said Claudie with an anxious look at her twin. ‘See if he’s heard anything?’

  ‘Don’t you think François has enough to do, it’s the tourist season, people are getting stabbed and mugged, the last thing the police need to worry about is chasing after idiots who decide they can’t stand their mother-in-law or their boyfriend and go storming off into the night!’

  ‘OK OK don’t get mad at me, it was just a suggestion.’

  As tempers had frayed they had all broken into ultra-rapid French, yelling at each other across the room.